50. A sudden snowstorm
My work visa was in place, and the days of departure were numbered. The weather was maddening at the turn of winter and spring. The temperature suddenly soared for a day or two, and then it suddenly started snowing. The streets were filled with rapidly melting snow, mixing with dust and turning into a grayish-black sewage. It was as if the entire street was flooded with tears. My snow boots became filthy after just a few steps. It was the most depressing time of year.
The day Vivian said goodbye to her old company was a particularly gloomy one. It was cold, dirty, drizzling and snowy, and topped off by a heavy smog that hadn't been seen much in the past two years. She thought sarcastically, even the heavens must be weeping for this.
That day, she didn't write a solemn farewell letter like many departing colleagues, though she'd often contemplated how to write it in the most elegant and unrestrained way whenever she felt a headache about work. She'd look back, thanking the company, her colleagues, and wishing them well for the future. But all of this only meant one thing: I'm leaving now, take care, and that's it.
After all, who hasn't imagined the unrestrained feeling of leaving? Whether it's leaving a position where you've served for years or a heartbreaking relationship, when you can't leave, everyone automatically develops a defense mechanism: using the fantasy of a graceful departure to persuade themselves to endure a little longer.
But when the day finally arrived, I realized that assumption was too narcissistic. A few close friends will naturally stay in touch. But the majority of those we spent time with day in and day out will become strangers. Between people, affection doesn't accrue based on the amount of time spent together. Most people spend time together, meaningless, even useless, time in their lives.
She simply followed the process, moving between IT, Finance, and HR. Each position had a dedicated person sign the resignation form. As she passed each hurdle, it was already time to leave. She handed the fluttering piece of paper back to HR, and the past few years had come to a close.
Every face she encountered that day was exceptionally polite, wishing her a bright future. The office that day felt like a stage set, not everyone receiving flowers and applause at the curtain call; most simply exited in silence.
It’s not that I’m nostalgic, but I do feel a little sad.
As she exited the shimmering glass building, the sky began to drift again, almost imperceptibly. At this time of year, the sky was already dark at six in the afternoon, making her feel particularly dreadful. Looking up, the skyscrapers fragmented the sky into strange shapes, revealing a narrow patch of gray. The revolving glass door resembled a monster's maw, spewing out countless busy ants dressed in black, backpacks toting their backs. She suddenly felt extremely tired, and she tried to comfort herself by saying it was probably just PMS, not a foreboding premonition.
She thought about it and took out her cell phone.
"If there is anything unfinished, please come to Beijing to get it done. Otherwise, who knows how long it will take."
"Okay. Wait for me."
She and Eric didn't have a relationship where they kept in touch and reported to each other every day, but strangely enough, their conversations always started with zero frames, without any greetings or nonsense.
She wrapped her coat tightly around her and walked into the endless darkness.
She returned home, ordered takeout, and while waiting, dove into her pile of clothes, choosing what to wear for their meeting. She didn't want to say something unlucky like "The Last Supper," but this trip was long and arduous, and there were always secrets between people. Even if they were lucky enough to meet again, the best outcome would be like Xiao Jiang's: "Ten years later, you won't recognize me, and I won't belong to you."
Even the most sensible woman would be buried in a pile of clothes for an hour or two. She would try on and change clothes again. This one was too frivolous, that one was too conservative. The one that really looked good was inappropriate for the still cold weather and too formal. She imagined herself looking so contrived in that dress, and they would probably both laugh.
She had bought too many of these narrow-fitting dresses back then, and now she would soon have no chance to wear them. But things had changed, and they no longer needed to put on airs in front of each other. They were in a relationship where they could wear an ugly pair of pajamas without any regrets.
So in the end she just chose the most ordinary white flannel sweater and knitted pants.
The next day, she continued to quietly rummage through boxes, clothes, skincare products, and other small daily necessities, spending the entire day there. She'd been practicing the "Datsu-shō-ri" (decluttering) method for years, even having read "The Heart-Stirring Magic of Tidying Up" and following the "one in, one out" shopping principle as closely as possible, but the piles kept piling up. Normally, she didn't notice it, but when it came time to organize everything, it became a headache.
Outside the window, a heavy snowfall had begun again. The sky was as dark as a gloomy night. Even though it was still daylight, she had turned on all the lights in the house, a bright pale yellow. She seemed to be floating in a crystal ball, this small yellow backdrop her last memory of this season.
Some people always say winter is the perfect season for romance. Perhaps it's the ancient memory ingrained in our genes, when we couldn't survive the long winters without huddling together for warmth. These short days and long nights can be truly depressing, and having someone by our side, even if there's nothing to talk about, is always good.
Fortunately, Vivian thought, fortunately, she truly enjoyed being alone. The beauty of freedom gradually surpassed any man. Japanese star Yuki Amami said she wasn't used to having another person in her home.
Vivian thought: It seems to be true. It’s okay to have an occasional date, but I’d really appreciate it if we were to be together for 24 hours.
The weather was still terrible on the day we met. Winter's worst fear is icy weather, and de-icing the plane makes the flight time completely unpredictable. Business trips are also dreaded during summer thunderstorms or winter snowy days; you often get stuck on a plane for hours, unable to move, and wake up thinking you're almost there, only to find yourself waiting.
They had agreed to arrive before dinner. Outside, the sky was a pale blue. She wasn't dressed up, but she still diligently applied eyeliner, something she hadn't done in ages. She remembered her social life back then, when she'd always woken up half an hour earlier to put on makeup. Eyeliner was always prone to shaky hands, making it look unnatural. She'd have to wipe it off and reapply it, which was a huge waste of time.
It's funny, but ever since she met Mrs. Qiu Fang, she no longer wears eyeliner. When she goes out, she just puts on foundation and lipstick that's close to her lip color.
The exquisite shell she had worked so hard for seemed to have been cracked by a powerful blow that day, and the cracks spread, gradually revealing the truth within. At this time, trying to cover those cracks with white correction fluid and pretend that nothing had happened was useless. Others could see your embarrassment at a glance.
Although all this was a matter of internal drama, outsiders had no idea what was happening and didn't care. They only felt that she seemed less lively than before. The surface was calm, but only she knew that a storm had been brewing within her. Only after the storm had passed did she finally recognize her own heart.
Even today, when she pulled out her eyeliner again, she found it hilarious. It was just a thin, charcoal-black pen, yet it seemed to possess some magical power. Whether or not she could fully unleash her allure depended entirely on the beauty of that single ink mark. Isn't that ridiculous?
There was no need for this between her and him. They had known each other for a long time. Yet, even now, she still felt a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. This is what is described in "The Little Prince." The fox said to the little prince, "You said you would come at five o'clock, and I will be happy at four."
Ah, she's not just that. She'll be happy long in advance.
The phone rang, but she still went to meet him at the door. He told her it would take another ten minutes, that it was cold outside, and there was no need to rush out. She waited quietly by the roadside, wearing a down jacket that reached down to her ankles like a quilt. The car was probably stuck at the previous traffic light, and the wind blew up some of the remaining snow, making her nose sore from the cold.
Although she was in such a mess, she was actually grateful for such a gray winter day. The sky was bright and clear, but she felt like a lover in troubled times.
The car slid up beside her.
She was a little surprised that he was dressed differently today. He rarely wore black, but today he was dressed in pure black, which only made his broad shoulders and long legs stand out. He brought flowers.
She took the flowers and said, "I didn't expect you to be so old-fashioned."
"These days, inviting people to your home is a very old-fashioned thing." He looked at her huddled in her big scarf because of the cold, with only her two sparkling eyes showing and her nose red from the cold, and his heart was moved.
"Maybe there's no need to rush. Maybe you don't care that much, but I want to tell you first," he paused, "We broke up a long time ago."
Even if he said it, it wouldn't necessarily happen. Even if he said it, it wouldn't necessarily work. But when he left her house last time, he was extremely upset that he hadn't said anything about this thing that had clearly happened.
It was too late to say anything now. She was already packing her bags and ready to go to the new world.
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